Doctor Who and the Illusionist
by Jewelfrost
Summary: 10Doc. The Doctor and Rose find themselves stranded in a steampunk-London as an innocent TARDIS voyage gets them roped into affairs that, in all honesty, should be left well alone.


_Just for clarification, this is the Tenth Doctor, and takes place (obviously) before Doomsday. My apologies - the characterisation is, knowing me, probably a little off. I really need to go back and watch some episodes to inspire me....yeah, that's not just a blatantly transparent excuse to feed my addiction..._

_Also, for an idea of what 'steampunk' is, type it into Google images and have a quick browse - hopefully that will clear a few things up ^^_

_Also also, apologies for the rather short chapter. I'm hoping I can make the next a little longer..._

_Disclaimer - I do not own Doctor Who. Pity..._

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**Chapter One**

Rose landed with a painful thump on the floor as the TARDIS gave a horribly violent jerk, throwing her from her bed. She had barely hit the ground before she was back on her feet – hurtling pyjama-clad and barefoot down the numerous corridors and trying not to fall again as the jerks continued, she finally rushed into the main room to find the Doctor fruitlessly wrestling with the ship's controls.

"Doctor? What happened, what was that?" She skidded to a halt and grabbed onto the doorframe to keep her balance, watching with wide eyes as he flew from one side of the console round to the other, yanking a lever down and trying to stop it from springing straight back up again.

"I don't know, I'm just trying to restabilise…" He gave up on the lever and leapt back round the other side of the console, hammering heedlessly at the co-ordinates pad.

"Have we been hit?"

He dragged his attention from the console and looked as though he was about to answer when another bone-shattering jolt, far more forceful than the last, flung the both of them off their feet as the TARDIS span out of control. There was a brief moment of complete and utter confusion, during which neither of them knew if they were facing up or down, before the ship ground with a frightening crunching screech into the terrain of whatever planet they had landed on. Then the engine died, and everything went quiet.

"We have now." The Doctor was the first to speak, sprawled rather gracefully on the floor with arms and legs splayed as though he was about to make a snow-angel.

Rose was not so graceful. She lay in a blonde heap halfway under the console, and allowed herself a few moments just to make sure that she was still all in one piece. Eventually she steeled herself and sat up, her head promptly colliding with the metal above her with an agonising clang.

"Ow!" Wincing, she carefully scooted out from beneath the console, rubbing her head with a hand and glancing around to the shaken interior of the TARDIS. Then she noticed the door - alarmingly, it appeared to be dented inwards. She'd never seen the TARDIS take physical damage of that calibre before, and it worried her. "What happened, where've we landed?"

"Don't know." The Doctor sat up, springing to his feet before helping Rose to hers and dashing over to the door, inspecting the damage. "Look at that – bent right in. Whatever did that doesn't half pack a punch, poor girl." He patted the buckled wall of the sentient ship affectionately before retrieving his trenchcoat from where it was hanging over the metal rail, shrugging it on and straightening himself out. "Well, no time like the present…"

"Hang on!" Rose protested, gesturing to her clothes. "I'm not going investigating in my pyjamas. Gimme a second…" With that, she darted off towards her room as the Doctor huffed and sat down to wait, tapping out a tune on the rail. Humans were always so concerned with their appearances … he could never understand why, but it had always been something of an irritation to him, especially when there was exploring to be done…

A long twenty minutes later, during which his tuneless tapping had been steadily increasing in impatience, Rose finally reappeared, more suitably clad in a baby-blue t-shirt and white jeans, hair newly brushed and – the Doctor was incensed to notice – makeup freshly applied.

"What happened to 'gimme a second'?"

"Shut up." She grinned, skipping over and light-heartedly linking her arm through his in an attempt to hide the fact that she was more than a little nervous about going outside to greet whatever had just blasted the TARDIS's fortified door half inwards. "Shall we?"

The Doctor gave one of his own trademark grins.

"We shall."

And with that, the two inter-planetary defenders stepped out of the TARDIS and found themselves simultaneously in the last place they had ever expected to be, and in the one place they found themselves with increasing monotony.

They were three miles above ground, and staring straight down the barrel of a gun.


End file.
